Behind This Smile

On Tuesday, I went to peer counseling without a negative thought in my mind. Gerard wouldn’t make asshole comments, therefore I wouldn’t make asshole retorts.

I opened the door, surprised to see Gerard there. “Hey,” I said, making him jump a little.

“Hey,” he casually said back.

I smiled slightly and sat down in the other chair. The silence was awkward, but not too awkward. Just awkward enough to irk me a bit.

“You actually going to talk to me this time?” Gerard asked sarcastically.

Asshole remark now calls for asshole retort. “Depends. I ain’t talking about my personal life with you.”

He frowned. Then the corners of his lips curled into a small slightly. “ ‘Ain’t’ isn’t a word, Sydri.”

I rolled my eyes. “Like you’ve never used it in your life.”

He glared at me. “And you would know that… How?”

“Everyone uses the word ‘ain’t’. Hell, Mrs. Starnes uses it and she’s our English teacher. So, there. I win.”

“You win? I win.”

I shook my head. “I win. Anyway, what are we going to talk about?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. The basics, I guess. Like, what’s your favorite color?”

I bit my lip. “Light, bright green. Like, lime green, I suppose.”

“Really?”

I nodded. “It’s a pretty color. It brightens my day.” Gerard grinned at me.

“Okay, um… Why do you always wear your hair over your eyes? That’s where they get the whole stereotypical ‘emo’ thing, you know.”

I nodded, agreeing with him. “I just… I hate making eye contact with people. Although I do it, I feel like they can just see right through me. Like I’m naked. I like to blanket my insecurities with my hair, I guess.” I swallowed and looked at Gerard. He had the softest look in his eyes.

“Why?” he asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t know, honestly. When I walk down the hall, everyone stares at me. But if they can’t see my eyes, they’ll never know exactly what I’m feeling. Whether it’s fear, shyness, or excitement, they’ll never know.”

I had the sudden urge to cry. I hate spilling my guts out, and that’s exactly what I was doing. Telling my whole life story to someone who absolutely despised me until this weekend.

I looked down at my hands. My shaking, fidgeting hands. “Now,” I spoke, “now, I feel so insecure.”

I looked at Gerard who had his eyebrows furrowed. “Why?”

“This is going to piss you off.” I sighed. I noticed Gerard was staring at me intently. “I keep thinking, ‘What if he tells Nicola or someone?’. But I know you’re not going to do that. Or use it against me. I’m going to believe Mikey when he says you’re a nice guy.”

Gerard looked angered… Of course. “Why would you think I’d tell Nicola anything?!” he shouted.

I closed my eyes. “Because I know that the only reason you didn’t like me was because Nicola didn’t. And you like Nicola. But I know you won’t do that.” Or, at least, I hoped.

“Of course I won’t! And I liked Nicola!” He let out a long sigh and rested his head in his hands. “Do you not trust me?” he mumbled.

I swallowed. Mr. Warlock never told me peer counseling was going to be so emotional. “I don’t know yet,” I told him honestly.

“Do you trust Mikey?” he asked, rather sarcastically.

“Of course I trust Mikey!” I shouted. So much for trying to be nice. “He had the guts to talk to me when nobody else did! And he’s actually nice to me! All the time!”

Gerard groaned. “Mikey’s amazing! Yes, I know!”

I stayed silent. Gerard took his head out of his hands. “We still have forty-five minutes left.”

I nodded, not sure what to say. “Um… Your mom,” Gerard mumbled.

“Is dead.” I glanced up at him.

“Yes, I know. Just, tell me about her.”

“My mom loved Nicola.” Gerard raised his eyebrows. “My mom thought I was a failure. Because I wasn’t Nicola. My mom was a whore. I loved my mom and I was skeptical on whether or not she loved me back. My mom never believed in my dreams. My mom laughed whenever I told her what I wanted to be when I grew up.”

I felt my lip quiver. I refused to cry. I refused to cry in front of Gerard. I refused to be so weak.

“My… My mom was pretty. My mom was funny. My mom loved my dad. My mom loved Nicola. My mom never once told me she loved me.”

That’s when I cried. That’s when Gerard rushed over to me and held me in his arms while I sobbed.

That’s when I began to trust Gerard.

He rocked me back and forth and had his chin on the top of my head. I felt like a little kid again. Here we were, on the floor, rocking back and forth. But I was feeling better.

I finally quieted my sobbing. Gerard looked at me. “I’m sorry. So sorry. I didn’t know it was a sensitive subject. It’s just… Mr. Warlock wanted me to ask you specific questions, your mom being one of them. Sorry.”

I shook my head. “It’s okay,” I mumbled, my throat dry and cracked. Then I twisted around to see his face.

“I trust you,” I said, looking at me hands. But I saw Gerard’s smile. He hugged me tighter.

And how was I supposed to know that I was trusting someone who liked to lie. A lot?